


March 13th or The Joy of Your Anus

by Marion



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marion/pseuds/Marion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was an obsenad from last year. In this case a 'goober' is a fish, not a chocolate covered peanut.<br/>See 'Survival' ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	March 13th or The Joy of Your Anus

## March 13th or The Joy of Your Anus

#### by Marion

  
No mice or hay mites were harmed in this story.  
I'd like to thank Sheila and TW for their suggestions:-) Any mistakes now are all my own.   
  
Just a silly little piece with hardly any calories at all.   
  


* * *

We got caught out in the open -- again. You would think after all the time we've both lived in Cascade, we'd be used to the weather, but no. 

I'd finally given in to enduring one of Sandburg's testing sessions, this time of my allergies. I had to sift through various scents until I found one that would set me off sneezing, and then dial it down until I stopped. Simple, right? 

And then the rain came. Miles away from the truck, we had to take cover in a barn. Before I could say that there's a reason why hay fever is called _hay_ fever, my lover is stripping off and asking if I'd ever done it in the hay.... 

Half an hour later and I'm blissed out and sated from having the best blow job this side of... well, this side of the galaxy. I'm lying on my back over a stack of hay. I can feel the short stalks sticking into my skin, smell the rich scent mixing with my cooling sweat, and hear mice scratching around the barn with us, but you know, I really don't care. Blair has my legs bent up and my feet flat on the hay and his face is between my legs. He's going where no one but he has gone before. 

I can feel his five o' clock shadow forming and I know I should be annoyed about the position I'm in -- I'm going to end up with hay rash and beard burns, but I don't care about that either because he's rimming me and it's wonderful, amazing, incredible. One day I'll tell him how much I appreciate how inventive he is, but right now, I just haven't got any breath left in my body. He's robbed me of all my oxygen. 

Like he does everything, Sandburg is going at it with enthusiasm, and in my case, with love. First he gently kisses my hole almost reverently, then he licks it, sending shivers through my body. I can't believe how good this feels, or the fact that I'm getting hard again so quickly. I pull my legs up to give him better access and groan. 

He moves to lick inside. His tongue is folded, and it's jabbing at me. His hands are holding me open, his fingers sorta kneading my ass cheeks. I can feel his short fingernails and then his teeth as he ever so gently nibbles at my hole. I shiver again, feeling the goose bumps form. "God... Blair." And he laughs, before nipping at the side of my legs and pulling away a little to take a breath. 

I strain to look at what he's doing and he grins at me and dives in again. "My little goober," I pant out. It feels like he's eating me alive -- licking me, sucking, nipping at my hole. His hand comes round and gathers up some of the pre-come that's leaking out from my cock. My hole is wet and loose. His fingers move in as his mouth moves away and I know I'm going to be filled with his cock. I need that. I want it. 

"Come on, Chief. Give it to me. Fuck me." And he does. 

Much later we lie back on the hay. The rain's stopped but we're too exhausted to move yet. His head is on my chest and I'm stroking his hair. I can still feel our come, both inside my body and over my chest where I came from his loving. He's lapping at it on my skin before it totally dries. 

"Hey, Jim?" His head comes up to look at my face. "I just realized, you know what today is?" 

I shake my head wondering what that brilliant intellect of his has come up with this time. 

Blair laughs, "It's the day when all school boys honor William Herschel. He discovered the planet in 1781. Happy Uranus day, Tough Guy." 

* * *

End March 13th or The Joy of Your Anus by Marion: marion.sherringham@ntlworld.com  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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